


For Fun

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The family decides that Damian's pets needed some Halloween costumes too. Damian is less than pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Halloween Prompt 2014.
> 
> My old neighbors had this pug and every year would dress it up and sit it next to the candy bowl on Halloween. Let’s pretend this is what the Bat-fam is preparing for, because none of them are dressing up and some of them are a little bitter about it. Also Tim strikes me as a perfectionist so when they hatched this plan he found reference photos of dog skeletons and stuff.

“Gray _son_.” Damian’s tone was so close to a whine, Dick almost laughed out loud. “I told you to _stop_.”

“We’re almost done, Damian. Promise.” Dick assured, holding Titus’s clean face between his hands and stroking along his muzzle.

“Dick, don’t get him all excited.” Tim scolded, jerking back as Titus’s tail began to wag, messing up the photos and printouts that surrounded them. “I can’t paint if he’s _moving_.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Dick drawled, leaning his forehead against Titus’s. “If we’re going to make him a skeleton, he’s got to be _anatomically correct_ , I forgot.”

“That paint better be nontoxic, Drake, or I _swear_.” Damian vowed. Tim just rolled his eyes, fixing the pictures next to his knee and gently taking hold of Titus’s tail once more. Damian huffed, turning away. “Father! Do something!”

“You know I can’t.” Bruce rumbled, not looking up from his newspaper. “Alfred wanted the family to do something together. This is what they came up with.”

“They are _torturing_ my animals!” Damian stomped his foot childishly, and Bruce barely concealed his smirk. “Have you seen Bat-cow? They…Todd and Brown put her in a _tutu!_ ”

“Torture is a bit strong of a word, son.” Bruce glanced to the opposite corner of the couch, where Cassandra and Barbara were busy strapping a large lion mane onto the purring Alfred’s head. “I think they enjoy the attention.”

“I give them all the attention they need.” Damian countered, crossing his arms.

“You try, yes.” Bruce agreed with a chuckle, lowering his paper and sitting forward. “But there’s only so much of you to go around.”

“A one-to-three ratio isn’t difficult. I will make it work.” Damian declared, haughtily. “I always do, after all.”

“Damian,” Bruce sighed with an exasperated smile.

The boy kept his arms tight across his chest, lips pushed in a pout as he looked down. “This is a stupid holiday.”

“I can’t say I don’t agree with you. To a point, anyway.”

“Animals don’t need _costumes_.” Damian continued, as if it would make a difference. Though, by the sounds of it, the child knew it wouldn’t. “It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s…for fun.” Bruce shrugged. He glanced behind Damian to see Titus staring at them, eyes anxious as Dick forced him to stay still. “And I think Titus would be having a lot _more_ fun if you joined him.”

When Damian glanced back, Titus let out a light whine, tail wagging again. Tim let out an annoyed sigh, sitting back on his heels as Titus perched himself up on Dick’s shoulders and threw a lolled tongue Damian’s way. Damian had to admit…Titus _did_ make a cool-looking skeleton, with the contrast of white against his black fur and how the designs shifted over his muscles when he moved. Even with the example photos scattered around him, Tim was still drawing it all freehand. Maybe he wasn’t completely useless after all.

(But only maybe.)

Suddenly, there was a brush of something against his ankle. Damian looked down to see Alfred rubbing his face against his leg, staring up at him with a contented mews. But the lion mane was too big, for when he shook his head, the mane fell across his eyes. It seemed to startle the kitten, and he tried to jump backwards. Instead, his legs became tangled, and Alfred plopped down on his side.

Damian realized he was smiling before he could stop it, and bent down to scoop the cat up. Gently, he pulled the lion mane back and tightened the strap under Alfred’s chin per Cassandra’s giggling instruction. Alfred let out a grateful purr and rubbed his nose against Damian’s fingers.

Without another word to Bruce, Damian spun around, sitting down next to Dick. Titus leaned down to happily lick his forehead as Alfred settled in his lap.

“Maybe Damian can do a better job of keeping him still than you,” Tim said pointedly to Dick. Dick held his hands up in surrender. “Damian, could you-”

“Give me your supplies, Drake.” Damian ordered, holding his hand out expectantly.

Tim blinked. “Wha…oh, come _on_. We’re already three fourths of the way done. You can’t shut it down now!”

“Damian…” Dick started.

“Who said I was shutting it down? If we’re going to paint my dog as a skeleton we’re going to do it _right_. Bones are one thing, but do you actually think you can draw realistic skull better than _me_ , Drake?” Damian asked incredulously. Dick grinned with an apologetic shrug as he complied to the request, snatching the paint brush from Tim’s hand and placing it in Damian’s. Dick then tried to hand him a reference photo, but Damian waved him off. Instead, he began to trace a curve around Titus’s eye as he scoffed, “As _if_.”


End file.
